Her Darkened Eyes
by TheLondonTeaCozy
Summary: Okay, I am horrible at summaries. This is my first fic: It's about Renesme and her adventures in terms to the oncoming war. Deathly Hallows spoilers,and lots of harsh swearing. Just warning you now, but it's rated M, just to be safe!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or Twilight, and I, Vanessa Lex, will do well to remember that.

I felt myself falling; through the clouds and rays of sunshine, the brush of a bird's wings on my cheeks. I landed softly on a bed of wildflowers, after hovering lightly. I lay in the field, letting the sun bake my skin, warming up my body. Opening my eyes to the glare, I jumped up and sped off through the blossoms. The summer breeze, fragranced with rose, picked up; my long curls whipped about, clouds shifter to make my skin shimmer. Rose petals swirled, weaving through my hair. The whispered to me and I ran; free as a bird.

I ran past a willow, swaying softly. Glancing over, there was a rope swing popping out of the leaves. Slowing to a jog, I ventured back towards the tree. Brushing the braches out of the way, my hair falling in my eyes, I reached the truck and peered around. It was a small girl, maybe seven or eight, pushing her doll on the swing. A string gust rustled everything, but the girl's corn-silk hair and grey dress didn't follow it. Stepping out from my hiding spot, I leaned up against the bark, watching the girl. Then, she pushed too hard; the doll sling-shotting off the and into the meadow. I raced out to mind the doll, instead coming upon something much more gruesome.

It was the body of a small girl, much like the first one; her blonde hair and pale green dress were matted and dirty. Her dark eyes wide with her last emotion, evident on her face, much like the long slice running down her neck. The blood was blackened, dirty, and crippling; feeling bile rise in my throat, I spun away, trying to keep the glass, clawing feeling from over-powering. The smell of rotting flesh filled the air and I opened my clenched eyes. The girl from the willow was standing a few feet away. Our eyes locked; a deceptive glitter to her crimson irises like a horror movie. She lunged.

**Author's Note:**

Hello people!

This is my first fic, so I don't know what to say except keep reading and I will answer any and all questions that you ask, either in the comments or in a message. My email is always an option as well, so just ask! Rate, review, and I will see you guys in the next chapter! Oh, heads up: all author notes will be posted at the end of the chapters, but if one is needed in the beginning, it will be there!

Thanks and enjoy! - Pepper


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's note**: I apologize for the strangeness of the prologue, but please; [almost] all will be explained at one point or another. I promise… No, I swear. I will try to answer everything, even if it comes down to some sort of live chat to answer it all. This is my first fic, so be supportive please? Thanks and enjoy!

Chapter 1

My eyes snapped open; the last images of the girl burned in the back of my mind. I was lying on my side on the compartment seat. Sighing heavily, I sat up, coming face to face with my twin [But still the oldest, as he likes to remind me], Jasper. He insists on being called Jess.

"Good evening, Sleeping Beauty. I imagine you had peaceful dreams?" he smiled at me, knowingly.

"Why 'd'ja say that?" I yawned, stretching and rubbing my eyes. Jess snickered, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"With all the tossing and turning you were doing, anyone else would've thought you were having a seizure, or an epileptic fit. Your choice." I rolled my eyes, watching the small smile he wore expand into a grin.

"It was just a dream, Jess." I sighed, flopping back on to the seat. I heard him shift, placing his head against the window. "By the way," I didn't move, "where did all of our friends go?" On the train to school every September, my brother and I sat with our friends Nicolette Anderson, Oceana Morin and Clare Braxton. They were usually here, laughing and talking loudly; taking my big Italian family to heart more than Jess and I had ever cared to. Without that, the silence was stifling, like a thick fog. Not that Jess and I were unsocial; we just kept to ourselves unless our loud companions were around.

"They're off bothering our Slytherin friends." Jess commented. We both laughed. It was just weird in general for Slytherins to be civil to Gryffindors, or any other house for that matter, let alone be friends with them. Even so, I have maintained a six, almost, seven year friendship with hardcore Slytherins; Magda Grenban, Yvonne Foster, and Vanessa Noir, as well as two Hufflepuffs; Clare and Bayla Stewart, and Lynne Ashton, a vivacious and wickedly clever Ravenclaw that can back my clear-minded and logical grandfather in to a mental corner. We all think she should just have a fifth house all her own, but no cigar.

Jess and I lapsed into another long-winded silence. The whole peacefulness of the quiet was broken [more like shattered to bits] by the compartment door being flung open. I jumped and fell to the floor. Picking myself up, I looked to the entrance hoping it would Maggy or Clare.

It wasn't.

Instead of one of my friends, Pansy Parkinson stood in the doorway flanked by Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass, who were leaning up against the side. I rolled my eyes, wondering if the compartment might lift off from the amount of hot air and ego filling the space; my brother included.

"Hello, Renesme", Pansy sneered, "And hello to you to Jasper." She said in a (attempted) sultry tone, as her cronies waved in a "flirty" way. You could practically hear my eyes rolling. Jess's popularity with the ladies, even most of the Slytherin…erm, creatures, was appalling and annoying at all the wrong times. Excluding my friend, Nicolette, all those that want him are under his level (not to sound all high and mighty, or anything).

"Evening Pansy, Daphne, Blaise." He replied courteously. I opted with the more straight-forward middle finger technique. I never said anything about conforming to "service with a smile" now did I?

"Well, we just wanted to let you know that we three are now Prefects." Pansy gushed, ignoring my blatant indifference of being within 10 feet of them.

"You walked all the way down from the front of the train to tell us that? Why should we care, you're not in our house anyway. Tell Nan or Maggy, they might care." I replied, bluntly.

"You should be more respectful of your superiors, Renesme." Pansy scoffed. I laughed.

"Superiors, my arse." I spat, pushing Blaise's shoulder, "Now, why don't you run along back to Malfoy. I'm sure he'd just love to see you all." Blaise pressed her face close to mine.

"Make us, Bitch." She hissed, feeling an inkling of bravery.

"Why don't I, sluts?" I growled, feeling the adrenaline starting to kick in. The two of us were prepared to rip each other's throats out.

"It was truly lovely seeing you," Jess intervened, "But it might be best to cut our visit short. Before we all lose a screw." I felt his dark brown eyes boring into my back. He was genuinely trying to be nice to them, which wouldn't help him when he had to politely refuse a date. I don't think you can be too "polite" in that instance. Seeing what was happening in the real world, not just in Jess&Pansy Land, Pansy straightened up.

"That's a good idea. Nice talking to you, Jasper." Pansy agreed in a stiff tone, like someone had slipped a corset on her vocal chords and tightened as hard as possible, "Ladies." The trio left (Daphne looking somewhat sullen), slamming the door behind them. Jess and I were statue-still for a moment, the only noise being my heavy breath. Suddenly, he spun around and pinned me to the compartment seat. I struggled fruitlessly, before giving up with a drawn-out sigh.

"Why did you stop me? I was on a roll!" I growled, pushing him into the compartment wall. He laughed bitterly.

"Why? You, dear sister, need to learn how to control your temper." I was still fighting him, so he twisted my free wrist into a way it shouldn't ever go. I gritted my teeth, biting the inside of my lip to ease the pain. Jess decided it was enough and let my wrist go. I sat back, holding it straight.

"It's Pansy, Jess. I didn't think I had to be nice." I muttered, "And if you came out of the library long enough to experience the real world, maybe you'd have more emotion." Jess gave me a look that I had seen many times; a mixture of sadness, anger, and familiar-love.

"Just because we're Italian vampires, doesn't mean we have to act like it, Nessa." I forced myself to look at the dingy train carpet, avoiding Jess's stare. Silently, I got up to go clean myself up.

The blood from my lip had oozed out onto my chin, giving me a very stereotyped look.

The opening feast and Firstie sorting was long over. As was the announcement that Hogwarts would be hosting foreign exchange students from France, Greece, and the Netherlands. I bet I was the only one that was genuinely excited, based off of the Great Hall's reaction. Maybe I would make a few friends, because Lord knows that I could use a few who didn't spend their time tallying crying kids. These kids, I knew, would be virtually unaffected by the war; I was relieved beyond belief when Carlisle sent word that Voldie's troops hadn't reached the Mediterranean or Scandinavia (save for Croatia, Nice, and Luxembourg). Honestly, I thought the guy had a Napoleonic complex, but only in the sense that he was holding out for total _European_ domination.

Anyway, I was sitting on the stairs of the boy's dorm with Daniel Clark, an arithmancy whiz (if you'll excuse the pun) that was my tutor and only male confidant, if you discounted my brother; he also gave exceptional hugs, but I digress. We were leaning on one another, tipsy with sleep.

"I think this is the most dismal house party in Gryffindor history." Dan whispered. I snickered.

"And that's saying something." Sure, people were mingling and drinking, but there wasn't that spirit of being absolutely drunk on house pride. Even with the Weird Sister's new album, _Darker Days_, coursing through the air, only five people were dancing.

And us Gryffs are known far and wide for our wild parties; it's just how it is.

"So, have you heard anything form Elise?" I asked feebly, watching a seventh year pour half a shot from a nearly full bottle of Firewhiskey; another sign of a bad vibe.

"She's in Latvia; raids and such." Dan's voice suddenly became solemn and distant. Elise was his cousin and at only twenty she was already knee-deep as a double agent for the Order. I gave him a hug, trying to offer a bit of solace. He smiled weakly, muttering a small "thanks". We lapsed into a slight silence, broken by weak attempts at an already dead conversation. I finally decided it was enough and went to go read in my dorm.

Wrenching the door open, I was hit with the hot breeze of 3 months without adequate ventilation. Wishing somebody thought to open the windows, even just a little, I shut the door and stripped down to a dark blue tee, shorts, and my uniform knee-highs. I yanked my hair in a high ponytail, crossing the space to crack the windows; sighing in content at a fresh early-September breeze, I wordlessly flipped the lid of my trunk. I was praying this year would not be the year the leather binding and rusting hinges finally snapped (the damn thing was older than my Aunt Alice!).

Rooting through the bag of novels I'd toted along, my fingers found and pulled out an ancient one. It was a first edition copy of _Dracula_, given to Jess one birthday by Carlisle as a joke. I settled on that, curling up on the window seat. The cool of the stone penetrated the thin material of my shirt, making little bumps rise on my arms and legs. Relaxing into the seat, I settled in to read.

**Author's Note:**

Hey everyone!

Well chapter one is over…it took me forever to type up. I hope it turned out okay, but I know it's going to sound like a lame attempt at a first chapter. Trust me when I say that it will get better! I write all my fan fictions in notebooks before I type them. This story is on its 14th chapter and I still have at least 4 to 6 more left if I'm going to get my point across. Just ass clarification: I wrote this story back when I was in seventh grade. It was lame, boring, full of pointless fluff, but mostly, it had no plot. This is my attempt to actually write it with a plot and it has turned from one book to three! This will hover at like PG-14/R rating, but I have it as M just as a pre-caution; I don't know how violent the last chapters will be. I can create some sickening mental images… yea for overactive imaginations, huh?

Rate, review, and be nice! - Pepper


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The weeks trudged by in a bitter fog. Tension was so thick a machete would be rendered useless (why zombie-apocalypse chainsaws are in such high demand). The tally that Magda was keeping of the crying children, usually running out of the Great Hall, had risen above 175 with repeat offenders. Lynne had cancelled her subscriptions to the _Daily Prophet_, _The Times of London, _and the _Quibbler_, despite being the information hoarder that she was. Everything had reached a level of unbearable morbid-ness. Thoughts of "what insert- animal- here was slaughtered for dining pleasure?" nearly converted me to veganism. To try to avoid any sick thoughts, I began people watching; especially taking note of people I rarely talked to. For one thing, the dark circles under Harry Potter's eyes had gotten a helluva lot darker.

Harry Potter was an interesting subject, in my circle. We were fairly good friends first through most of fourth years. Right after the Triwizard Tournament ended with a student fatality, Harry and I had a huge argument; in the Hospital Wing none-the-less. We haven't spoken more than a bitter "hello" at the few meetings of the Order of the Phoenix that I attend. It was more than the "he has his friends and I have mine"; it was the blatant, glaring hate that we both refused to fix. Yes, my family was involved in the Order; we had latched on when it was reorganized. Harry was the reason it was revived. Of all the things I'll admit about him: he wasn't too bad to look at. Even with the shiner circles.

One week, about ankle deep into October, was a single continuous rain-storm all week. I found myself paying more attention to Potter's quirks that week; especially the weird habit he developed of standing out in the middle of a field or elsewhere and staring at the clouds. The Wednesday of that week, I decided to take the long way from Charms to dinner. While passing by the Quidditch practice pitch, I spied a bag resting against the wall next to the boys' locker room. Setting my own bag down, I glanced at the tooled leather label: _Brooks Supply Company. _

I only knew one person who owned a _Brooks_ bag in that bad 'a shape. I stepped over to the pitch entrance, yanking a Princeton sweatshirt over my head. Sure enough, there was Potter, standing in the middle of the pitch, staring up at the sky.

In a down pour, soaking wet.

Rolling my eyes I walked up behind him. "Trying to prove just how stupid you are, Potter?" I huffed, crossing my arms. Potter visibly jumped, looking shocked when he realized it was me.

"Hi Renesme, how are you?" he asked, shaken.

"Fine and dandy, thank you." I snapped back, sarcastically, "Ever thought about going inside? I'm pretty damned sure that the ceiling is just as interesting as your rainclouds." I tugged on his shirt. Blinking a couple times, Potter nodded and set off towards the entrance, or exit in this case. Coming into the hallway, I silently cast a drying charm over the both of us, relishing in the dryer-warm feeling.

"Um… thanks, Renesme." Potter said, awkwardly, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder.

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks? I just saved you from about a month's worth of pneumonia," I muttered furiously, "Furthermore; this is the first conversation we've had in years." Potter watched me closely, leaning up against the wall.

"So, what's your angle, Cullen?" he asked.

"I don't have an angle."

"Then, what's your point?" he was clearly amused.

"My point is," I scoffed, "that we haven't spoken in two years. Maybe you could try at more of a conversation next time?" Before he could reply, I had already begun making my way to dinner; in the opposite direction.

That Thursday, at lunch, I watched Nicolette bobbing her head to a new Weird Sisters song she had latched onto, mouthing the words. Snickering, I tore off a piece of my roll and tossed it in her direction, hopping to hit her forehead. The bread bounced off her nose and fell into her blouse. Nicolette jumped and immediately began fishing around in her blouse, making me laugh harder. Finally shaking the roll out of her bra, she gave me look.

"Why?" Nicolette was obviously annoyed with me.

"Felt like destroying your bliss." I smiled cheekily, trying to hide the lingering snickers.

"What do you want to talk about?" She asked in a bored tone, going back to her food. It was amazing how well she knew me; sometimes even better than Jess.

"Do you really want to know?" I bit my lip.

"Only if it means I can watch you squirm some more." Nicolette smiled mischievously. I had a feeling that she and Jess could be the power couple of the century. They'd have people sniping down their younger siblings in no time.

"Fine," I said, leaning across the table, "I talked to Potter a few days ago." Nicolette gasped dramatically.

"What?" I asked, chuckling. She shook her head and began collecting her things, rushing out of the hall. I raced after her.

"Letta? Come on, Letta! This isn't drama class, so tell me! Please, Letta?" I called after her, weighed down by my bag. I kept calling after her: "Tell me, Letta, please?" I finally cornered her outside the library. I was standing on a stone bench; Letta was catching her breath.

"Letta, if you're not going to tell me what the Hell's going on, then I'm not giving your poem journal back." Letta's eyes narrowed from her hunched position.

"Which one?" She asked, still breathless, watching me nervously. Digging into my bag, I produced a pale green, leather-bound notebook.

"Jasper's and I have no problem getting it to talk," I smiled evilly, glancing at the book, "Particularly during, I don't know, dinner tonight?" I waved the book in front of it.

Letta sighed: "Okay, Nessa, I overheard Dan talking to Scarlette Astair, the girl from Greece," I nodded in understanding, "Well, she said that she'd overheard Potter telling his Quidditch lackeys that he was going to try to win you over for… Order reasons. You know, collecting troops and stuff."

I rolled my eyes: "I'm sorry Letta, but that is about the dumbest thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth." I laughed.

"I'm not lying, Nessa!" She sputtered, snatching at the notebook.

"Potter doesn't mince words or keep his mouth shut for more than twenty seconds at a time," I spouted off quickly, quoting Yvonne, "And you're just a bad liar, Letta. You can't cover up anything! Has nothing in our six years of friendship taught you anything?" I teased playfully. She laughed and relented, coming to full height.

"Okay, Nessa. I also heard that he was going to…" Letta paused, swallowing, "As Scarlette put it, try to get you in bed."

"Lovely…" I muttered. Letta looked really uncomfortable. "That's all?" She nodded.

"I always thought he was kind of an ass, but this exceeds expectations, doesn't it?" Letta crossed her arms.

"It sure does…" I thought out loud, "Well, I'm off." I walked past her, heading to Care of Magical Creatures. Letta's mouth dropped open.

"What about my journal?" Letta called.

"Oh, yea…" I turned back around, "Think fast!" I tossed the journal at her before speeding down the hallway. Letta just barely caught it.

I met up with Magda just outside of the Forbidden Forest. We talked as we ambled to the clearing where class was being held. The two of us were in stitches and stumbling through the underbrush like drunks by the time we arrived. We sat down on the stone wall, still giggling madly.

"Afternoon, ladies." Both of us looked up.

"What do you want?" Magda's eyes darkened with malice. Potter just snickered, looking at me. I stared down at my textbook, praying the Letta, Daniel, and Scarlette hadn't actually heard anything at all and that I was imagining things.

"I just wanted to speak with Renesme," he smiled, like it was perfectly normal, "However, if you want to talk later I could always come back…" Magda looked at me curiously.

"Nessa?" Magda was watching me with some sort of amusement.

"Whatever; just make it quick." I sighed, setting down my things on the wall. Potter nodded and placed his bag next to mine. Grabbing my wrist, he pulled us a bit away from Magda, who was eyeing him suspiciously. Yanking my hand away, I crossed my arms.

"So, what exactly do you want to want to talk about, Potter?" I glared at him, digging my nails into my forearms.

"Relax a little bit, okay?" I rolled my eyes, "Anyway, I was wondering if you would like to go to Hogsmede with me on Saturday." I thought a bit, then, glancing back at Magda, a brilliant idea came to me.

_Maybe Potter would enjoy being run-around as well. It's only fair to play the game by the rules, isn't it?_

"Alright, I'll go with you. Where would you like to meet up?" I replied, giving my best genuine-but-still-fake-as-hell smile. I was smiling for reasons he didn't even fathom…

"How about the main hallway, at around nine-thirty?"

"That sounds lovely, Harry." I smiled, making a point to use his name this time. Fluttering my eyelashes a bit, and giving a teeny wave, I went to sit next to Magda. The two of us were silently looking at Magda's textbook until Potter left with his bag. I began to look at my own textbook, the section about Unicorns, to keep from having to answer Magda. Unfortunately, she doesn't give up that easily…

"So, Nessa…" She began in a smarmy tone, "Care to tell me what happened just now?"

"You want to know what happened, Maggy." I snickered, " Let's just say Potter isn't the only one who is getting the run-around this year…"

"Why, might I ask?" Maggy smirked.

I lowered my voice so only she could hear. "For wanting to screw me till I can't see straight." Magda and I began to laugh, earning strange looks from our class mates.

This was going to be an interesting year.

**Author's Note:**

Hello everyone! I only realize now that I am straying from the original plotline, but that's why we write new ones, yes? Trust me, it'll all come together eventually, I promise! Anyway, how do you like the twist that Nessa & Harry are not best buddies to begin with? I you do, great, fabulous! I you don't, cool, whatever… Please rate, review, send me a message with any questions, email me, whatever! Just an FYI, if you want to zip me an email, just send me a message asking, okay? I'm not going to post it around randomly. So please, just ask, I will be more than willing to let you at it

Thank you,

**Pepper**


	4. Chapter 3

Thursday came and Friday came and went. Saturday dawned in a haze of perfume and powder. Throwing on a green V-neck, light wash jeans, and grey hi-tops, I grabbed my messenger bag and ran. I was nearly sweating and panting hard when I reached the Great Hall. Leaning against a wall, I sunk to the ground.

"What happened to you?" I looked up from the floor to see, who else, but Potter, with a peculiar look on his face; penny for your sick thoughts, dearie?

Straightening up, I tried to look pleasant. He wouldn't get rid of his stupid expression, though. So, God forbid, I had to ask: "What's with your face?" Not exactly the query of the century, I know.

Harry laughed "What's with yours?" I bit on my lip.

"What the Hell do you mean?" I had a hunch, but hoped it was wrong. Bringing one of his hands up to my cheek, he stroked a little circle; a gesture that made me recoils. Pulling his fingers away, he showed me their bright fuchsia tips.

"You went a little overboard." He joked, handing me a tissue. Grabbing it, I hastily scrubbed my face, cursing my friends under my breath.

"Leave it to Bayla to make me a tramp…" I muttered. Harry just laughed. When my face was stinging and raw, I stuffed the powdery, sticky tissue in my pocket. Nodding in approval, Harry held out a hand. Mustering a shy smile, I hesitantly placed mine on his and we ran out to catch a carriage.

We caught an empty carriage into Hogsmede; most students left after breakfast, but we decided that two biscuits and a piece of fruit each were fine. During the ride into the town, Harry and I caught up. I almost felt bad about what I was doing, but then I remembered his own intentions.

Empathy who?

Arriving in the village, Harry opened the door and lifted me out easily. To him, I obviously weighed a smidgen less than a ragdoll. I sheepishly thanked him and gripped his hand again. For the majority of the morning, we strolled and created small talk, while I played a convincing arm-monkey. Harry complemented me profusely. Each time, I faked a blush, smiled, and huddled closer. And he bought it, every single time.

About noon, we both started getting hungry. Since the Three Broomsticks would be overflowing with students and teachers, I suggested we try the Hog's Head; a great many third years believed Death Eaters met there and wouldn't dare go within forty feet of the gate. The two of us headed to the pub. Grabbing a table by the grimy front window, Harry ordered 2 Butter-beers and a packet of crisps for the both of us. We had a face-making contest while we waited for the food, just like on the train in second year.

"So, how are your classes?" Harry asked, taking a slug of his drink.

"Your uncle is giving a damned hard time." I grimaced, taking a sip of the liquid, only to get foam on my nose.

"Sirius?" Harry asked, "Actually, he's my godfather. He's like that though; honing in on one person all year." He smirked, while I drifted off (unable to believe that I had forgotten that bit of info). He licked the foam off my nose, taking me by surprise. After a good fifteen seconds, I snapped back to reality.

"So, I'm just lucky, huh?" I questioned, rubbing my nose.

"I guess…" He paused, "Do you become a space cadet regularly?" I bit my lip.

"Well, are you that forward with every girl?" I twirled a piece of my hair, trying an innocent angle. Harry seemed mildly intrigued. I was pulling a complete Lavender Brown ploy and I didn't like it; much.

"Maybe… Would you like to know where it goes from here, Renesme?" He smirked, obviously way too sure of his "game". Rolling my eyes slightly, I stood and ran a hand through his hair. It was longer than I remembered and silky smooth to touch. I tried to repress a nostalgic smile; one reminiscent of all those days in the Hospital Wing. Harry noticed it.

Standing up, he tossed a few coins onto the table and grabbed my bag. Pulling me closer he muttered: "Let's get out of here."

After saying goodbye to Potter and thanking him for the "lovely afternoon", I ran up the girl's steps to my dorm; only to be attacked by my fellow Gryffs.

"Are you alright?"

"Did he try anything?"

"Where did you go?"

"Aw, Nessa has a boyfriend!"

"Oh dear God, let her breathe!"

"Thanks a ton, Letta!" I gasped, standing up and flopping onto my bed. Glancing around, I noticed something slightly… off, "Maggy? Why are you here?" smiling, Magda sat down on the end of the mattress.

"Flew in through the window; I was curious about your little jaunt with Potter." She shrugged. Ariana, our Portuguese buddy, looked aghast.

"Really?" She asked in her muffled English, "I just wanted to know how he is in bed…" Everybody in the dorm almost died laughing, including Ari and I. At first, I didn't want to tell them, but after a long speech from Magda about torture methods using a jump rope, I decided against my better judgment for the sake of my neck. So, begrudgingly, I began telling them everything.

Yes, everything.

When I finished, my friends all had interesting, but completely thoughtful looks. Ari looked put-out.

"I thought we were going to hear about hot, passionate sex…" She muttered, crossing her arms. An awkward silence ensued; I bit my lip, Letta twirled some hair, Oceana picked at the skin by her fingernails, Magda tugged on her socks.

"No, Ari; nothing went that far…" I mumbled, still chewing my lip. Maggy sucked in her cheeks, and then announced that it was "about time she got back to the lair". She left via the door.

All of us sat and stared at each other or the floor; the awkward was so thick that a machete would be rendered perfectly useless. Finally, everyone drifted back to their beds; around the same time Lavender and Parvati showed up.

Go figure.

**Author Note:**

**So there was chapter 3; hope you enjoyed! Just to clarify, Ariana made the awkward comment to play off her first one, because it got the better reaction. Keep in mind that I made her kind of unaware to the teen-used English. This does not make her a subject to the "stupid foreigner" stereotype. I think that's just dumb. I envision her as just a girl that's been kind of sheltered and has never really left the hometown type of character; kind of naïve and innocent. **

**Oh, Americans and our stupid stereotypes… Sometimes I start wondering if chivalry, manners, common sense, and common courtesy are really dead. But, I don't think I would get along anywhere else. What other country is willing to embrace my snark?**

**Alright-y then, on to chapter 4! I will post some author note regarding my nicknames for the characters and who uses what; that kind of stuff. I have also created a forum for you all to ask questions and get my answers. Thanks for reading!**

**Carie (yea, I tried writing under my guise, Pepper, but I can't…too hard) **


	5. Chapter 4: Christmas

The next few weeks passed uneventfully. Well, other than an increased amount of "romantic" trickery from both parties. But that is to be expected, especially in the game we were playing. November 1st was the week that Hogwarts got very, very interesting.

The week started in a flurry of excitement, anticipation, and non-stop twittering from clumps of girls. On Sunday, Dumbledore had announced that some obscure club in Hufflepuff was holding a New Year's masquerade ball. Cheesy, right? Very, I thought. From Tuesday to Thursday, I received a total of 41 anonymous letters asking me all the same chick-flick movie clichéd crap:

_Dear Renesmee,_

_ Will you meet me on the terrace balcony at midnight on New Year's Day?_

_Adoringly,_

_Anonymous_

I felt like a copier machine, writing out the same response every time:

_Dear Anonymous:_

_ No._

_Sincerely,_

_Renesme Cullen (see, one "e")_

Seriously, the first rule of asking a girl out is "always remember to SPELL HER NAME CORRECTLY", isn't it? Out of the 41, I had only one that I liked. It was sappy, sort of clichéd, like something you might come across in a book, but cute. It went something like this:

_Dear Nessa._

_ Would you go to the ball with me? Your hair is like caramel. Your eyes are forget-me-nots. Your voice is sweet like honey. So, please go with me?_

_Love,_

_Jamie H._

He even had the courtesy to sign his name! It turns out, that Jamie was a second year Ravenclaw because he came and told me himself. I told him that the gesture was very sweet, but I was a little too old for him. Blushing furiously, he tried to apologize. I told his to go ask Celesti Lovegood, Luna's younger sister. Looking hopeful, Jamie thanked me before bustling over to Hufflepuff.

As for the repercussions of the event, let's just say that Fred and George were not going to let me slide by so easily; and that not every perfumed confetti heart has been fished from my panty drawer. I'd rather not go into detail, or even speculate.

* * *

><p>Friday morning, I was falling asleep in my oatmeal. I could hear Jess snickering every time I jerked my head up. Glaring at him, I tried to focus, but my vision kept blurring. I finally gave up, pushing my half eaten breakfast away and resting my head on the table top. I was about to drop off when:<p>

"Nessa, you got a letter." Sighing, I opened my palm. Feeling the parchment I sat up and opened it.

_Another shitty invite_… I thought glumly. Most of these guys only wanted to feel me up, so why bother? Geez was I surprised. The note was written in royal blue ink, but it wasn't a normal letter.

It was a poem.

_Lead me through your thoughts, I want to understand_

_Teach me what you like to do; I want to like them too_

_Tell me how you feel; I want to know about your days_

_Share you secrets, and I'll tell you all mine too._

_Make me part of your day; I'll try to be exciting._

_Show me your secret hiding spots; I'll be there to comfort you_

_Look past this outer shell; I know I can surprise you_

_Just give me one little chance_

_To make you fall in love_

_ What do you say Nessa? Be my date New Year's Eve?_

_ Harry Potter_

Instantly, I was wide awake, blood coursing; I was, in short, flabbergasted. Harry had written an acceptable invitation, and he could write a decent poem as well; that is if he didn't have one of his artistic lackeys do it for him. It wasn't the work of the Immortal Bard, but we weren't Romeo and Juliet; I actually hoped that we may turn out to be like the ending of the play. Because Romeo, a.k.a. Harry, dies first, that would give me, or Juliet, time to hide the body and run.

Grinning for all the world, I pulled a loose page from my Potions notebook and scribbled:

_Harry,_

_ You stayed true to your word: I am totally surprised and impressed!_

_ Yes, I'll go with you. Now, can I have another poem?_

_Nessa C._

"Hey Jess," My brother looked up, eggs in his mouth.

"What?" He replied, swallowing. I handed him the note.

"Give this to Potter, will you?" I held out the letter. He raised an eyebrow.

"Why? What's in it for me?" I rolled my eyes.

"Geez, you have Divination first, that's all! When did you join the Mafia?" I joked.

"Okay, Okay; Don't get your knickers in bunch, sis." He smirked, taking the paper.

"It's twist." I corrected.

"Whatever." Then he headed off to class with Oceana and Vanessa. Not feeling hungry anymore, I ran to catch up with Clare and Yvonne for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

* * *

><p>Two weeks later, Rebecca Nollan, a Ravenclaw, and I went to browse the dress shops during our Hogsmede Saturday for the perfect one. We didn't see much in the ones we usually drift through, so, just for the Hell of it, we entered <em>Madame Tiffany's Gownery<em>, giggling at the prissy name. Once inside, the two of us were enamored by the miles of taffeta, silk, satin, and lace; sashes and trains swirled around us. Madame Tiffany herself snapped us out of a fabric-induced frenzy, helping each of us select three gowns to try on.

Rebecca's selections were an apple green strapless with copper trim, a deep purple one with ¾ sleeves, and a bronze-gold sleeveless that sparkled when she walked. She chose the blue, saying it would go great with her special yellow pumps. For me, Madame Tiffany chose a sleek, curve-hugging black strapless with red ribbon, a jewel-tone blue with off-shoulder sleeves, and a champagne pink with silver sequins.

The black made me feel like a Bond woman and the pink made me feel like a princess. In the end I chose the blue, loving the regal feel and knowing that I could wear the gown elsewhere. Also, I matched with Rebecca which made the ball seem loads more fun! But, of course the green was beyond my price point, but I don't give up that easy! Miss Tiff agreed to put it on hold for me. Thanking her graciously, Rebecca and I left to go dig through a few thrift shops!

* * *

><p>As Christmas was fast approaching, my fellow students went shopping. Of course, Yvonne and Vanessa asked Lynne, Bayla, and I to hide their gifts for Maggy, and the two of them graciously hid our own presents. But, I have to tell you, I never expected Parvati, of all people, to knock on my dorm door and ask if she could store Lavender's present in my Princeton sweatshirt. Those two were closer than even sisters get. I hid the bag, yes, but I was tempted on many occasions to sneak a peek.<p>

Speaking of gifts and the like, I received an early gift of sorts, enclosed in a letter:

_Dear Nessa,_

_ Would you meet me on the balcony on New Year's? _

_ I promise this is not an attempt at anything._

_Sincerely,_

_N._

"Who the 'ell in N?" I jumped; it was Avril, another foreign student. I cursed myself silently for not recognizing the thick Franco-Russian accent.

"I don't know." I replied quickly, "Shouldn't you be following Daniel around?" I added with skepticism. She shrugged.

"I vas, but this dropped out of y'ur letter." Avril extended and opened her palm. Ther in her hand, was a necklace made of precious gems on a silver chain: sapphires, rose crystals, emeralds; the whole lot! It was shaped into a beautiful, fully opened pink rose. Avril slipped the trinket into my hand and bid goodbye, smiling. I was too stunned to do anything, but wave.

* * *

><p>Christmas morning, I hardly even registered what day it was. Following my usual routine, I took a quick shower and slipped on a sweater made by Nona Esme and faded, ripped jeans. Walking down to the Common Room with a book, I yanked my long hair into a messy bun to snickers. Glancing up, I saw Letta, Oceana, Ariana, Jess, and Harry all sitting by the fire in their pajamas.<p>

"What's so funny, Jasper?" I questioned with raised eyebrows.

"_Buon Natale, _Renesme." Jess hugged me.

I laughed. "Happy Christmas to you too!" Giving him a kiss on the cheek, I looked over at my friends, "Merry Ka-Nish-mas to you, my peeps!" They all laughed and said it back; I even got a "_Feliz Natale…" _out of Ari, who refused to talk much since the incident.

Sitting in a circle, we began to open presents; I'll give you the highlights: Jess gave Letta a quartz and ebony bracelet, and I gave Jess a new blue Oxford for his collection. I gave Ari rose-water perfume and Oceana got a book on Animagi from Lynne. Maggy gave Harry a rather…interesting book, and Harry gave me a Scarlette red heart hair-clip. After more than an hour of that, we decided to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Kalá Christoúgenna!" Scarlette called.

"Gelukkig Kerstfeest!" Marc shouted.

"Joyeux Noël…" from Avril and a rousing,

"Crăciun Fericit!" from the Romanians. Replying to all of the greetings, our group sat down at the head of the Gryffindor table. Lynne, Yvonne, Vanessa, and Clare came over to hand us each a bag of gifts, proffering hugs as well. We all began to pile food on our plates; well the guys did anyway. Grabbing a chocolate chip muffin, I made it float in front of my face. Harry, who was sitting to my right, gave me a funny look.

"What the Hell are you doing?" he asked, stumbling over his amusement. The muffin dropped into my hand.

"I'm attempting to communicate with the highly advanced species of chocolate chips on the surface of this muffin." I replied casually. I got a few weird looks before cracking a smile.

"In other words, dearie, she's being Nessa." Lynne smirked. The silence broken, everybody laughed. Harry smiled and kissed me on the cheek, muttering "you're so cute" in my ear. I blushed.

Jess raised an eyebrow, obviously daring Harry to explain why he was being so forward with his baby sister in front of him. He softened a bit when Letta placed a hand on his arm, smiling sweetly at her. I noted somewhere in the back of my mind that Oceana looked a bit jealous, but it was only a fleeting look. The morning owl post swooped in with gifts from relatives and letters. Jess and I each got a box of shrunken gifts from Mom, Dad, Carlisle and Esme. Rosalie sent me a little note with a small parcel to open later. We had never been on "good" terms with one another, but we were attempting to bridge the gap a bit. Jasper and Alice sent another box of gifts for us along with a ten page letter.

I also got two mysterious letters. The first was from the Volturi, Aro specifically. He expressed how I was becoming a "fine young woman and negotiator" and that "Italy is proud"; none of which I understood, so I took it that he was bargaining for something. My hunch was right: in the envelope was a small note from Sulpicia saying how a meeting of the covens was going to be called to address various issues involving the currently ongoing war; in other words, boring stuff that I didn't want to, but was going to have to sit through anyway.

The second was very simple:

_On December 25__th_

_We rejoice in spirit_

_That everyone has a very Merry Christmas_

_We give and take _

_To those we love, not hate_

_Together with Christmas joy_

_We spend the day giving toys_

_Christmas comes today_

_So wake up and enjoy its stay!_

_ Grab a little cheer, Ness? Happy Christmas!_

_ -N_

This was the second letter I had received from the guy, both without a snippet of who he was. Well, except the bloody ominous "N" for a signature. Did this guy work for NCIS for Chris-sakes? Sighing heavily, I smoothed out a napkin:

_Dear N,_

_Anymore damn clues as to who you are? It's been a doozy trying to figure it out,_

_So, thanks._

_ ~ Nessa C._

I asked Oceana if I could send it off with her owl, Artemis, later. She agreed, still hazed with happiness (she had gotten a neon orange hard-cover for her cell phone from her cousin, Ruby). After breakfast, our clump trouped back up to the Common Room. I sped up to the dorm to send my letter. Artemis, a grey barn owl, chirped happily and flew off after I gave her a pumpkin treat.

Turning to set my gifts on my bed, I saw three parcels wrapped in delicate silver paper and lavender bows. Setting the boxes I had brought up on the window seat, I looked at the card on the first, and smallest package. It read:

_You live a life as real as they come_

_You're sown into reality more than some_

_So in tune to everything going on with you_

_You're not living life, just running through._

_And you've known such great pain, and such fear._

_That you'd rather be anywhere, but here_

_And your eyes have seen such horrible sights_

_Those nightmares make you question if you're alright_

_You've been through such horrible things_

_That you don't know the joy that life brings_

_I think you need an escape, I think you need a getaway_

_To somewhere better than life this way_

_My darling, you need a fairytale_

_One that tips off the imagination scale_

_A place to set yourself free_

_Of the balls and chains of reality_

_You need a better, happy place_

_Than what you have in real space_

_You need a wonderland, a happy ending_

_A heart that will meet its mending_

_Because your arms know such great scars _

_But still, you remain hopeful to the stars_

_And you might only know razor blades_

_So, I'll take you to a place that won't ever fade_

_I call it a wonderland, an always living fantasy_

_In your mind it lives, to flee to when you're antsy_

_Take a break from the world and all its pain_

_Come to a world without any rain_

_You deserve an imaginary land_

_Come with me, take my hand_

_Because, love, you need a place to keep control_

_Where the price is a daydream for the toll_

_Where you come from, you only know great struggle_

_Let's get you that wonderland on the double_

_Real life can be awfully stale_

_And you, my dear, deserve a fairytale_

_ Hope this helps out! – N._

Sighing disdainfully, I opened the first box to see a matching set of topaz studded earring, necklace, and bracelet set; the second held a pair of delicate black dancing shoes. Ripping the last open I saw pale blue tissue paper sealed shut by another note:

_To my Cinderella; my Italian __princessa__._

_ -A long-time friend and admirer_

I pulled back the tissue paper to see blue fabric. Lifting it out of the box, I gasped and nearly dropped it.

_Oh. My. God._

***Author note at the beginning of chapter 5! Thanks- Carie**


	6. Chapter 5: Carousel

**Author's note: Okay, this was for chapter 4, but I think it's long enough at this point. So… Hellos again, how are you? I haven't posted in, what, four days? I'm not sure, but my sister is obsessed with this website she's found and refuses to get off. Oh, it's only mere days until I get my new computer! So anyway, here are just some credits for the poems in chapter 4:**

**One Little Chance by me and my buddy Gillian (while staring at a wall in Science class…)**

**Christmas by TokyoLuvr (on Quizilla)**

**You Deserve a Fairytale (funny story about the last one…I'm not sure who it's by. I have it written in one of my notebooks dated 2007, but I'm unsure if it's really my handwriting or if I copied it from somewhere, so if you wrote it: please message me with the site it was posted on and your username/name. I want to give you credit!)**

**I want to kind of prop-up Quizilla here for a second, because it's where I first posted my stuff when I was scared of FanFiction! So, that username is LilyLuna113, if you care to come and laugh at me, please do!**

**Okay, well that's all except that I'm going to begin some chapters with poems from now on; like 5-liners then the chapter starts. The titles have nothing to do with the chapter names… My chapters are nameless as it stands… So, rate and review and suggest! I'm always looking for new ideas!**

**Fairytales- Carie :)**

**Chapter 5:**

* * *

><p>My eyes grew wide and I felt like I was going to faint. There, in my hands, was the dress from Madame Tiffany's. Laying it down on the bed, I pinched myself hard on the wrist. Feeling a shot of pain, I realized I wasn't hallucinating. Hesitantly, I grabbed my wand and cast a simple determent charm, and then I began to undress. Slipping the cool fabric over my skin, I looked in the mirror, finding that the gown fit perfectly.<p>

Either "N" was a major stalker or it was charmed to fit the wearer's size. I decided on the latter because the former creeped me out too much. The dress was beautiful, I couldn't deny that, but who was this person? How could they have afforded it? I hadn't seen so many numbers on a price-tag in all my life!

I had to thank them, somehow:

_Dear "N",_

_I don't know how you knew what dress to get, but I can't thank_

_You enough! I will gladly meet you on New Year's. And, your poem_

_Was lovely; I have come to believe you're an artist of a sort!_

_Love and Thanks,_

_Renesme A. Cullen_

Leaving it on my dresser to send when Artemis returned, I changed back into my sweater and jeans.

* * *

><p>Harry had really begun to get on my nerves, taking my hidden annoyance for him from a dull roar to glaringly obvious. He wouldn't walk anywhere with me! Instead, Potter strolled arm in arm with the various "Hogwarts Harlots" (thank you, Oceana), like Ginny Weasley, Cho Chang, and Daphne Greengrass. Trust me when I say I am being extremely nice when I calm them harlots.<p>

Oceana, Maggy, and I have a list of far worse.

By Wednesday, I had stopped talking to him, much to his confusion. On Friday, he was perplexed and pissed as hell. While walking to the library, Harry came up behind me and pulled me into an empty classroom.

"What the Hell was that for?" I shouted, as he sat me down. He smirked and cast a silencing charm.

"Not exactly quiet, are we?"

"I'm sorry I'm not feeling like it today!" I spat. I didn't even try to hide how royally pissed I was, and he wasn't either. For once, we were on the same page.

"What the Hell are you so bitchy about?" he smirked.

"Oh, like you don't know!" I laughed bitterly. Harry's eyebrows screwed up, looking at me with pure amusement.

"Actually, I don't; care to enlighten me, Ness?" I ignored his smarmy comment. Nobody had called me Ness since 3rd year. Shaking out of my mind's library, my steely gaze returned.

"You have a taste for sluts, huh?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he shouted. I started laughing, border-line hysterical. I couldn't believe he was trying to worm his way out of this. I had almost forgotten what an ass he was and my reasons for faking the whole damn relationship.

"You know what?" I gained a bit of control back. He raised an eyebrow, daring me to continue, "I thought you had changed, that you might actually care, but I was so wrong. I've had it with you, Potter. So, have fun with your whores" I spat; and just for good measure, I slapped him across the face.

I watched with a sick sort of pleasure as Harry held his cheek. Not one ounce of regret penetrated my mind; just thoughts of hatred and bitterness. He looked at me, shocked. Then another emotion invaded his gaze, an emotion I couldn't place. Still holding my stony façade, I leaned up against the stone wall. I finally got fed-up with his staring.

"What's wrong with you?" I demanded sourly, scowling. Harry stepped over to be directly in front of me. Entranced, he stretched out a hesitant hand and fingered my hair.

"You're wearing the hairclip…" he whispered, mesmerized. I instinctively flinched away.

"Umm, yep, I wear it every day, Potter." Dropping his hand from the clip, he smiled down at me. Raising an eyebrow, I allowed him to gingerly take hold of my fingertips, even though he was walking on thin ice.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" Harry placed a light peck on my cheek. I pulled away, the quick change of heart causing some suspicion.

"Sure, yea, umm… I'll see you at the dance, yea?" Biting my lip, I back out of the classroom. Just outside the door, I heard something. A faint:

"See you Sunday."

* * *

><p><strong>Author Note [Part 2]:<strong>

**Well, hi! Sorry to end on a strange note, but I already know how chapter 6 is going to work out and I was getting a writer's block in terms of this chapter. You guys get it, right? I hope so. Anyway, The first author note was for chapter four, as I'm sure you are well aware.**

**Thank you all for reading. I really do appreciate it! I have a forum set up; I'm still jimmying around how to work everything, so I apologize. It's a Q&A forum, for those of you who have questions about what the heck is going on in this big mess. I know it seems like a strange love novel at the moment, but it will diverge away into another huge mess. **

**Question of the day (leave answer in comments): Why are you reading **_**this**_**, of all things?**

**No, I'm serious. Here I am, reading **_**Of Mice and Men**_** and writing fanfiction. SO why are you reading **_**my**_** story? Please tell me!**

**Thanks and review please!**

**Carie :3**


	7. Chapter 6: Runaways

Disclaimer: I, Carie, do not own any part of the Harry Potter and/or Twilight series. This is how it would be if I did, okay. Actually, I own quite a bit: Jess, Letta, Maggy, Bayla, Oceana, Yvonne, Kin- oops! Haven't gotten there yet!

* * *

><p>Chapter 6: Runaway<p>

_We've got to run away,_

_I'm living a life in redemption_

_With no feeling or no soul_

_This life is taking its toll_

_I've tried to hold on, but I can't_

_I should just runaway._

* * *

><p>Life sort of went back to normal, well as normal as you can get living with "face-painted whores" and warm-blooded, "hormone-filled fiends", as Maggy says.<p>

Or is that just school in general?

Potter went back to his Quidditch lackeys; I returned to my "simple, muggle pleasures", what Letta calls them. I hadn't received a letter from "anonymous" since Christmas, even if it had only been 3 days. I was almost wondering if it had been some ploy by one of those sleazy bastards hanging around the dungeons. I wasn't worrying much about the ball. The only reason I was still going was to meet Mr. U.N. Owens, and finally get Letta and Jess together.

Believe it or not, but Jasper D'Marco Cullen was head-over-heels in love with Nicolette Andersons. He never talked about it to anyone, but me or our godfather Jacob. All during summer holidays, Jess went on about how lovely and romantic and incredible it would be to have Letta with him. He said it in Rome, in Sicily, in Venice. He was even dwelling on it in Tuscany and Firenze!

Likewise for Letta; she's always fussing over her reflection in the morning, or begging me not to tell Jess just how "darling" he truly is to her. Letta fawns over a photograph of the three of us in 4th year (after my fight with Harry); the one where Jess has his arm draped over her shoulder. Those two need each other like Romeo needed Juliet; Minus the death, of course.

As I had said, my relationship with Harry had gone south. Maggy and Vanessa, being the devious Slytherins they were, had been trying to get us back "together" to finish out "Operation Ultimate Downfall", what my petty scheme had been dubbed, with a "big fucking bang".

Knowing those two, I kept wondering if that last was literal or not.

They didn't realize that we weren't going to get together quickly; this wasn't a Las Vegas marriage, for Pete's sake! We weren't drunk or high, now were we?

But, I was still going to the ball with him; I blame Maggy, for slipping stuff into my morning tea.

* * *

><p>"Pink eye shadow or blue?"<p>

"Give me back my hairspray, Lenoir!"

"Where did my perfume go?"

"I can't find my earrings!"

Such were the loud and somewhat poetic battle cries of girls getting ready for the ball. Three hours early. I don't know if I'm a simplistic person or just too damn fast, but I couldn't understand the reasoning behind it. Who am I kidding? It's completely ridiculous!

Or maybe it was just because I felt like I was going to throw my guts up if I stopped reading.

My nerves were hypersensitive with the anxiety of meeting with "N". Lately there had been a surge of Death Eater raids, kidnappings, and mysterious killings. So, if my reasoning is correct, which it usually isn't, whoever this person was had a fifty-fifty chance of being dangerous. Knowing my luck, they might as well be. The whole idea made me want to go check my dress for curses. My foot was vibrating with my heart-beat when Jess ran up to me.

"Hey…Nessa?" his normally, steadfast voice was shaken to the core. I felt even sicker just hearing it.

"What Jess?" My voice was quivering badly now. He held out a letter.

"Take a look…"

Grabbing it from him, I pulled the parchment from the envelope and hesitantly fingered the black wax seal:

_Dear Jasper,_

_I apologize for the abruptness of this letter. Urgency aside,_

_I must inform you that there is nothing only I can do to quell _

_the rebellion. I have called for the council to form on January_

_the fourth. I wish for you and Renesme to attend. Please leave_

_as soon as possible. I will send someone to escort you._

_Cordially,_

_Aro_

I had placed the recent conflict between covens in the far corner of my mind. It had been weeks since I heard any news of the "siding issue"; whether Voldemort or the Ministry would pull through in the end. Now, I was scheduled to meet with the whole council in four days, completely clueless? I nodded to Jess, who sat down and gave me a brotherly hug.

"Let's leave tonight," I whispered, "I need to get out."

"I was thinking the same thing _sorella_." Jess smiled, ruffling my hair.

"I guess I should pack, yes?" I offered a smile, and climbed the steps to the dorm.

* * *

><p>After a record 20 minutes of getting ready, I stepped out of my dorm and headed towards the Great Hall. I told Harry I would meet him there because I was still wondering why I was going with him to begin with. Harry Potter was a bastard, and a sneaky bastard at that.<p>

_Oh, but his eyes! _

I don't know why his are so spectacular. They're green; Letta's are the same colour.

_But his smile is gorgeous!_

It's a smile; mine's pretty too. So what?

_But he's rich and famous!_

Draco Malfoy is rich and famous, not for the right reasons, but that doesn't make him a good person. Hell, I'm rich and famous too, but that all depends on how many vampires you're willing to ask.

I paused on the top step on the grand staircase to survey the crowd. I saw Jess and Harry talking over by the door, so I headed that way. I felt the eyes of my classmates on me. Yea, I looked great.

"Nessa, glad you could join us!" Jess smiled and kissed my hand, "Have you seen Letta at all?"

"She was putting on her jewelry when I left. She should be down in-"I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"When will I be down again?" Letta moved into the circle, looking drop-dead stunning in a chartreuse gown and black pearl jewelry set. Jess, looking stunned, rigidly held out a white rose.

"We'll leave you two birds alone…" Harry held out his hand. I whispered to Jess to "be more Italian" as I walked into the Great Hall.

The hall was decorated in stark black and silver. Glass baubles lit up with pastel-glowing faeries floated around the space. The four long house tables had been replaced with 20 five seat tables, draped with gossamer bolts of blue, silver, and sea foam sheers. The midnight ceiling twinkled with silver stars.

"Drink?" I was so swept up in the soft prettiness of the place that I didn't notice Dan come up.

"Oh, er…thanks." I replied shakily, reaching for the champagne flute. Harry nodded in hello, but continued to slightly glare at my good friend. Yes, alert the army! Nessa Cullen has just been handed…a drink.

Could be serious…

I took a small sip and nudged Harry hard in the ribs. Dan was going on about… well, something. He didn't notice.

"So," I blurted, interrupting, "Who's your date, Dan?" Dan had a mischievous smile.

"Close your eyes and I'll call her over, Nessa." I smiled at the game, and complied. After a little while, Dan gave the green light; my jaw dropped in utter disbelief.

"Kindra?"

"Nessie, dear!" we ran together, hugging the life out of one another. When we pulled apart, both sets of eyes were tearing up.

"I thought you were left for dead when the Amazons were raided!" I cried, grabbing her hands. My long-time friend smiled sadly and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Well, no; Zafrina and the gang had to go battle some crocodiles or something. Long story short, getting lost in the Amazon basin is easy," I laughed, watching my friend's eyes glitter like she was a child again, "I'm sorry if I had you worried, Nessie-dear."

"I'm just glad that Huilen didn't drag you around too much!" I gave her a smirk, feeling our childhood romps through the woods and around Volterra flooding back. And Kindra saw them too; her golden eyes twinkled again.

"So where did Jazzy run off to, Nessie?" Kindra grinned nostalgically.

"I'm sure he's off hiding from you, Kina." Even though Jess had no idea she was here, he would be sneaking back to Gryffindor Tower once he found out.

"I don't believe we have…" Kendra's eyes glowed silver for a fraction of a second, "Harry Potter. Yes, I don't we've met before." She bent down and brushed her lips against his hand; a very Kindra gesture. Harry looked positively floored at the actions. Kindra just smirked in a satisfactory sort of way and bade Harry and I goodnight. Seeming pleased with himself, Dan wished us a good time and hurried along to dance.

The band had just struck up a new number. It was a piece that da had taught Jess for mum's birthday. Out of habit, I started swaying lightly and humming in time.

"You know the sing Nessa?" Harry mused.

"Mm-hmm…" I breathed, "One of my favorites." He raised an eyebrow, "It's Clare de Lune, silly!" I smiled.

"Then, let's dance." He took my hand and pulled to the edge of the dance floor. In sort of a trance, I set myself up in the position. We moved into a waltz-like pattern; drifting to fit the music rather than the beat. Looking up at Harry, I grinned to see him mouthing "one-two-three-one-two-three…" repeatedly. Feeling a content-ness flood my mind, I drifted off; seeing Alice at the piano and Jess holding my hands tight.

* * *

><p><em>I turned the yellow page of one of my mother's oldest books:<em>

_O, speak again, bright angel!_

_As glorious to this night, being o'er my head_

_As a winged messenger of heaven…"_

_ I sighed lightly, "O Romeo, Romeo…wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and thy name…or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love; and I will no longer be a Capulet." I knew the words by heart._

_ "Shall I hear more of shall I speak at this?" I jumped. I felt air on my neck and turned; Jess was standing there, papers under his arm. I scowled._

_ "What do you want?" He snatched my lover's tale away, thrusting over the papers._

_ "Sheet music…"I mused, flipping the booklet over, "Clare de Lune?"_

_ Jess grinned: "Dance with me."_

_ "Why? What's your angle?"_

_ "_Sorella minore, _you need to stop reading Shakespeare," He laughed, "Real life be far greater that the great drama doth thy hold." I rolled my eyes._

_ "You don't even know how to speak it…" I mumbled, pining for my book._

_ "Yes, but I can waltz. Please…" Jess held out his hand, "Dance with me, sis?" I crumbled._

_ "Fine…" Nodding happily, Jess leaned over the bar into the kitchen; out came Alice. Fingering the ivories, she began the piece. Not knowing what to do, I held out my hands dumbly. Jess chuckled a bit; he readjusted my form and slowly started stepping to the beat. I followed deftly, paying more attention to the notes. Still tense and staring at my feet, I felt a whisper pass my ear._

_ "Relax _ucella._"_

_By the end of the second time through, I was comfortable, drifting along almost on my own. All too quickly, Jess stopped me, though I wasn't even close to being ready to. I pouted, the Jess lifted my chin so he could look me in the eyes._

_"_Sei una bellissima danzatrice la mia sorellina." _He complimented. He gave me a peck on the cheek before trotting upstairs to his room._

* * *

><p>Unknowingly, Clare de Lune had swapped over to something composed by Sarsate. Harry had lifted me up, dropping me from my day-dream cloud, head first. A few more steps and the clock struck 11:50. I froze in my place; Harry took notice.<p>

"If you really want to see the anonymous bloke, feel free." He whispered; I smiled then let it vanish.

"How did you know about…" I searched his face, now towards the floor. Then, like and epiphany: "You read my letters…" Then it really dawned on me.

"OHMIGOD, you read my bloody letters!" I felt the eyes of the closest dancers on us. Harry looked incredulous.

"You left them out on the table, so I just—"

"So, you read them; you read my personal letters!" I shouted, "you bastard!"

"You make it sound worse than it is," he waved me off, "Since when have you become such a drama queen, Nessa?"

"That's because it _is_ as bad as it sounds!" I gritted my teeth, "If you knew anything about me, _at all_, you wouldn't have to stick your nose into my letters and God-only-knows what else!"

"And I actually wonder why I didn't bridge the gap between us sooner…" Harry muttered, making me want to explode.

"Well, you had time and the wherewithal to fix that, didn't you Potter?" I hissed venomously in a low, grave tone, "I'm leaving for Italy tonight; don't start thinking that I'll want to come back." Smacking him across the face for the second time this week, I stored out onto the terrace.

I was sincerely looking forward to finding out "N".

* * *

><p><strong>Author Note: Hi y'all! I'm sorry about the late update. I haven't been able to get my hands on the keyboard for more than ten minutes a day… I saw the last Harry Potter movie last night and am very happy about the conclusion. Of course, I have my shipping preferences. Yea, NessaHarry isn't the only one. It's just something I latched onto when my friend Lins (Letta's inspiration) gave me the challenge. Would you believe that I turned in fan fiction in for a school project and got an A?**

**Anyway, I'm leaving for camp tomorrow (7/24/11) and won't be able to update for a week. I finished book one and am working on book two, a few short story collections, a pure Twilight fan fiction, and a pure Harry Potter fan fiction. **

**I want to thank all the people who have read this story; yes, all 152 of you! I appreciate the people who have commented and look forward to hearing from more of you! Remember, you can send me a message, post a comment, or post in my forum if you want to ask a question.**

**Oh, here is a quick translation of the Italian that Jess is speaking [there will be more Italian coming up; this is a universe where Nessa grew up in good relations with the Volturi and really lived in Italy. Carlisle did testing on Nessa and the other hybrids in Volterra]:**

**First: "Younger sister, you need…"**

**Then: "Relax, birds" [yea, it's birds because the word 'bird' has, ahem…other implications…]**

**Last: "You are a beautiful dancer, my little sister." [they are twins and Jess is younger, but he has always assumed the superior, almost paternal-role to Nessa, especially at school.]**

**Well, enjoy and I will be adding a new story and maybe even the first draft of this story. That way you can all make fun of me! Humility is a good thing, yes?**

**Stay cool [to the U.S. and everywhere else]! - Carie**


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Twilight, only Nessa, Jess and the posse…blah, blah, blah. I think you know the drill by now…**

**Hello there! I'm finally home from camp and I couldn't wait to get back. I wrote a lot and it's coming, I promise! I might start posting some of my one-shots later this week, when I get the time. Thank you all, and I hope you enjoy chapter 7 and the "big" reveal!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 7: Running<p>

_Running…away from them _

_They left me, and_

_I am never going back, so…_

_I am running_

* * *

><p>The new year's chill made the hairs on the back of my arm stand on end, but I was too busy scanning the terrace for some sort of figure. Giving up, I plopped down on a stone bench and waited for "N" to find me. After a couple of minutes, I drifted off.<p>

Is it day-dreaming if it's 11:55 at night?

With nothing else to do, I went over all my memories: The first time Emmett and I went hunting; When I tried to make cookies for Esme, but dropped them all on the floor; the time Jess and I had to take our first picture together; When I cried on Harry's shoulder in second year because of the dead mouse in DADA; My first fight with any of my friends; Rampaging through Volterra with a teenaged Kindra at my side…

The memories of Kindra, Jess, and I plagued me the most. She was my best friend and a leader in my eyes. She was nearly one of our coven; she acted like a sister to me, teased "Jessie-dearest" or "Jazzy" with me, helped me and listened to me when I needed her.

She could do no wrong, if you asked.

"_Signorina?"_ I glanced up. In front of me was a boy with olive skin and raven-black hair in dress robes and a black mask. He was speaking Italian.

"Si, signore?" I drawled, standing up.

"Hello, Renesme. I'm glad you could come…" he smiled warmly. I smiled back, forgetting the beginning of the night.

"Are you going to tell me your name? I've waited so long to find out…" I had a gut feeling this was "N". He seemed pleased with himself.

"Yes, in five…four…three…two…one," He kissed me softly, taking of his mask with one hand, while holding me with the other. The bells were chiming the last strains of the midnight strokes when he broke the kiss. My mouth dropped open.

"N-Nahuel?" I stuttered, stunned. Was there a limit to a number of familiar people that one can see in only a few hours?

"It's good to see you, Renesme. Are you well?" Even though he had switched to English, Nahuel's Latin accent was still warm, friendly, and nostalgic.

"I'm just wonderful." I replied, "Are you here just to see me?" With vampire's there was never a single reason; there always had to be a billion other underlying variables along for the ride as well.

"Yes, and no, _principessa_." Nahuel bowed, as per his normal annoying habit. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not a princess; don't say that." Brushing his lips over my hand, Nahuel smiled.

"And yet you are fair as one, Juliet." I had to blush a little at his childhood nickname for me.

"Grazi," I curtsied, kissing his hand as well. "Yet, these are unstable times, so please, what is your reason for visiting England?"

"Sister England called out to Mother Italy." Nahuel draped his black cape over me, whispering "You looked terribly cold."

"That's beside the point…" I felt his arms tighten around my middle.

"I know, but it hurts to say…" He paused, "The Volturi sent me here to collect you and Jasper, the return to help with raids and infiltrations."

"Oh, is that why Kindra is here as well?" Nahuel looked at me funny.

"Kindra is here?" He stared up at the sky, "She's not supposed to be…" he muttered.

"Never mind it; she's just here for the party, as usual!" I smiled. He looked uneasy, but let it slide.

"Well, we should go find Jasper," Nahuel took my hand, "That is, if you guys want to be in Italy by morning." I nodded furiously, running back into the Hall to go find my brother.

* * *

><p>2:30 in the morning is not the best time for me. On the Volturi's persona private jet (yes, vampires now have private jets.), Jess and I were falling asleep on top of one another. Nahuel, however, was wide awake and sipping espresso. He set his cup down, softly.<p>

"There's a bedroom in the back, you two. If you care to use it, I will wake you when we land." I smiled gratefully. Jess picked me up like a little kid and walked to the back. He set me down on the bed and helped me change out of the gown. We were both so tired, dropped onto the bed in his dress pants and a white tee. I grabbed whatever I touched first and threw it on; just so happened that it was my nostalgic pair of purple, kitty-cat patterned sleep-pants and a tank.

"Come 'ere, Nessa." Jess slurred when I collapsed onto the comforter. I moved closer to my brother, nestling my face against his neck. He held onto me like a teddy bear. We had stopped doing this when we were eleven, but even now, I felt safer than I had for a long while, cuddled against Jess.

I was wide awake, unable to drop off for at least an hour; my mind racing with twenty-million thoughts. Jess had succumbed to sleep almost instantly and was breathing slowly, calmly, and steadily. Comforted by the rise and fall of his chest, I slowly fell into a dreamless sleep.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight:

_Young boys trouble, so called struggle_

_I wish you were me_

_Aiming, taming, give and gaining_

_Blind man that could see_

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><p>We landed in a secluded airport at about five in the morning. After dressing, Nahuel helped me into a black cloak and from the plane to a waiting black car with tinted glass. Sitting in the plush back seat, I leaned against the window, feeling the winter white penetrate through the blackness.<p>

My mind raced with the slight anxiety and adrenaline rush that comes with a strong cup of coffee. I was quiet, my body still tired, even as my brain was running a mile a minute. During the trip, only a "yes" or "no" nod was my communication, but this was only for cream and sugar in my tea.

A sharp lurch to the back of the car told me we had arrived in Volterra. Nahuel handed me a gold-lace veil as the valet opened my door. Bobby-pinning the fabric to my hair and, feeling a rush of regality, stepped out into the courtyard. There were a few aristocratic boys playing in and around the center fountain. When Jess and I walked past, they stopped and bowed. Jess nodded, but I sank to curtsied back.

* * *

><p>"Here are your chambers, Lady Renesme. I hope they are to your exact liking." My assigned hand-maid, Dauphine smiled and curtsied deeply.<p>

"They will be perfect, Dauphine. You may return to your quarters now." I smiled back. She murmured a bashful, "Thank you, madam" and backed out the room.

Sure I was used to being called "lady" by the maids, but this visit was different. In the almost 20 minutes I had been in Volterra confines, soldiers, the captain guard, aristocrats, and even that bastard Felix had regarded as "Lady Renesme"; a newfound respect. I didn't like it at all, but that was partly because Felix said it with his smarmiest voice, usually reserved for my godfather or Alice. I didn't care for it, but it was normal for him.

Aro knew well enough now which room I loved above all others. It was the west bedroom in the villa south of the main house (Regina Fiore villa). My family usually boarded here during our visits and always had, as far as I knew. It came to be known as the Jasmine Villa because of the intoxicating jasmine blossoms during summer months; when the flower's scent made there no need to spritz of perfume. But, it was January, this no blossoms.

Another omen to dampen the mood; as far as I was concerned, the majority of magical Europe was hunkered down in sopping wet wool blankets and not even a delicate, sweet flower could end it.

Taking meditative breaths, I drifted out onto the terrace. The weather was warmer that yesterday, but my arms grew cold quickly despite the glowing sun. Leaning up against the wrought-iron railing, I watched waves lap up against the cliff below, the shore another kilometer drop. The silver-blue water rolled like the sheer draped on the glass terrace doors.

"Happy to be away?" I turned.

"Somewhat…" My voice trailed off as I watched Jess scrutinize me, "What's the matter?" slipped out.

"Well, Aro and the rest have invited us to lunch." He spoke plainly. I cocked an eyebrow.

"So, what's that got to do with you critiquing me?" I asked, leaning farther into the railing, slipping my hands into my front pockets.

"Because one doesn't normally take lunch with leaders in a _Black Parade_ tour tee and acid washed jeans, sis." Jess smiled.

"Get out and I'll change, okay?" Rolling his eyes a bit, Jess saluted me in a sarcastic fashion and left. I shook my head and glided back into my room, Since Dauphine had already neatly placed all my clothes in the armoire, I walked over and selected a few pieces: grey skinny trousers, a light blue knit tunic, a pair of black heeled-Oxfords, and a Herringbone peacoat.

After donning a navy knit beret and a green scarf, I met Jess out in the foyer. Nico, a guard and friend of mine, and Nahuel were waiting by the car. Nico, who reminded me of Harry with his messy black hair and olive-green contacts, kissed the back of my hand and draped a rose red head scark over my forearm. Nodding curtly, I slipped inside the black Rolls-Royce.

Jess and I collapse onto the black loveseat after spending the last 4 and a half hours with the Volturi and wives. With them, you can always expect a sort of dark extravagance, but the set-up was miles different today.

I closed my eyes and nuzzled into Jess's shoulder, falling into a sort of half-sleep. The past hours replaying in my mind-theater like a movie scene.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Well hi! This is going to be extra-long-ish because I didn't post a not in the seventh chapter, so it's a total update. So I hope you are liking the last chapter and the trolls out there are waiting to tear my head off when they discover my identity. Those of you concerned with the Twilight side of the book, fear no longer. I may have told you this, but I have Steph Meyer's new "book of answers" I love the thing; there is even an answer as to why Edward didn't flip out when Bella got her period (TMI, much Steph?) I'm trying to stay as true as I can, but I'm changing a few of the characters to fit what I feel happened in the aftermath of Breaking Dawn.**

**I'm working on getting an independent website up, so there is a story hub and I can post fan-art and have contests. It's turning out so cool, I promise you! It's mostly fanfiction, but I do have a personal blog on there too.**

**FYI, chapter 9 is a total flashback to the Volturi lunch, but I'm not writing it all in italics (that would totally screw up your eyes, reading all slant-y like that!)**

**July was great, let's make August better! Rate and review (I know you're out there!)**

**Carie**


	10. Chapter 9: Your Move

**HEADS UP: This chapter is a flashback to the Volturi luncheon. The scene bears no real presence in the plot-line, but I felt like writing it; more of describing what my character interpretations are like. Carie**

**Chapter 9: Your Move**

_Dancing on a checkered board_

_White always moves first_

_Since I wanted the best for you_

_I let you have the upper hand_

I quickly clipped the veil to the crown of my head as the Rolls-Royce pulled up to Nightshade Villa. I tried my best to hide the feeling of dread latching to my chest; the Council would meet here in a few days' time.

The driver, Nico, opened to door and helped me out before handing a parchment envelope to Jess with a nod. I took Nahuel's arm as we walked the path adjacent to the villa. I suppressed a shudder, but not very well, when I glanced up in the shadow of the ominous building. Even though it looked exactly like any larger villa in the countryside, the memories and stories of goings-on in it made it seem like a torture chamber.

Nico and Jess had struck up a conversation regarding the state of magical Britain. I tried to listen, but it bored me to near tears after a few minutes. I wanted Nahuel to say something; anything to break the awkward silence.

"Renesme," I let out a sigh of relief, but didn't look up.

"Yes, Nahuel?" I was stumbling over my words, which never happens. I had a good idea about what he wanted to discuss.

"You seem nervous, anxious even, as of late." Nahuel was known to ease into a touchy subject; especially with Nessa "Land-mine" Cullen. That's Jacob's doing, not Nahuel's.

"Just spit it out, Nahuel," I spoke through gritted teeth, wanting my oldest friend's point, "I'm not deaf to putty-footing and you know it perfectly well." I heard him sigh heavily; upsetting me was the last thing on his "To-Do" list.

"Care to enlighten me on why you're so nervous about the Council gathering?"

"Take a freaking guess." I huffed. Nahuel paused, thinking of the easiest way to put the matter. Then he spoke, his voice lowered drastically.

"A closed chamber with men watching your every move, and Aro criticizing everything from your voice tone to your hand positions frightens you?"

"Damn straight," I muttered.

"Are you frightened now," Nahuel asked, "To be alone with all three of them?"

"No. I trust the three of them completely. It's the stodgy aristocrats from covens that are advancing towards the 18th century; those are the ones that bother me." I sniffed. Nahuel smiled a bit. Between my dislike for anything stuffy and the American-ized speech, he found me very amusing at the strangest times.

"Lady Renesme, would you like more tea?" Sulpicia's hand-maid, Arlene, bowed slightly and re-gripped the Chinese porcelain tea pot.

Muttering something like: "Thank you dear, that would be lovely," I admired the artfully painted cherry blossoms adorning the side of the cups; so delicate and happy.

Jess and I were waiting quietly with the wives for Aro, Caius, and Marcus to arrive. It was a gorgeous day, albeit cold; sun shining, and the sky clear. Our hosts had chosen to dine on the south balcony of the main villa, facing off towards the sea. It was strange for the two of us to be out in the open sun without protection; even though our skin only glowed, it still drew attention.

Jess was chatting enthusiastically with Athenadora about music, particularly piano, which the two of them played. I stayed silent, which was fine, as Sulpicia lacked words today too. Either way, I didn't care much about piano; violin and the string instruments was my thing.

Taking a tentative sip of my tea, I heard Nahuel and Felix open the door. I set my cup down, stood and bowed my head; an act of absolute habit.

"Oh, please don't bother, you two." Aro's voice always had been very distinctive: deep and velvety, like Dad's and Carlisle's, but it possessed a certain cheerful quality that most lost after their first 75 years. Jess and I straightened up and looked them in the eyes, one of our many privileges but still a bold move on my part.

"Aro, its protocol;" Caius drawled, sitting down, "If we encourage them to break step-"

"Caius, we invited them, remember." Aro waved him off with a slight chuckle, "It is not an audience." Aro sat down, as did Marcus, and then assumed the traditional "rich man-poor man" stance. Caius continued to glare daggers at me. I had never cared much for him; he always held such a cold, merciless, and unfeeling opinion towards everything and everyone, except Athenadora.

"Aro," Jess spoke up. The leader smiled at us two. "Carlisle sends you his good will, but is unable to attend the Council meeting." Jess leaned over, handing Aro the parchment envelope from earlier. "He is sending our father in his place." Aro glanced at it briefly.

"I see…" His cheery demeanor slowly dimmed, "Well, Edward will do just fine…" He studied the letter a little longer, before setting it down. "Thank you, Jasper." Caius was staring at me intently, as was Marcus; Marcus, however, wasn't nearly as much of a hard-ass.

"I assume the two of you are curious about the proceedings of the Council meeting." Caius drawled in a bored tone, tracing the rim of his saucer with a finger.

"Yes, I think Renesme and I would like an explanation." Jess answered. Sometimes I loathed these meal-time meetings: the scrutinizing looks and the annoyance at the rule that I couldn't speak unless directly spoken to. There were many rules that I had taken issue with, but Aro had already heard these grievances many times; I had no guilt in feeling them.

"Jasper, since your father is coming in Carlisle's stead, I will ask you to present the ideals of the Order." Aro took over from there, "Renesme, I will expect you to lay out what the fore-front of the magical population has to say, in light of the recent events." He looked at me in a paternal sort of way, but even in my seat I was on my toes. I was waiting for him to say that my veil was crooked or something. Contrarily, the three were expecting my answer, as were the wives.

"From which perspective would you like; that of the public or that of the Ministry?" I inhaled deeply, feeling the tension and anxiety slip away. Aro was impressed.

"I would think that the Council would rather hear the opinion of the general public. Leave the Ministry to the Ministry." Aro smiled, "Besides, we all they deny the whole effort, so it is as if they do not exist. Now, I feel like we could all use refreshment; I will go alert Madame Grenban." He and Caius rose and re-entered Donna Villa.

I turned to Sulpicia. "Grenban?"

Sulpicia nodded. "I guessed you pick up on that, Renesme." She didn't speak much, but I'd always thought she had a lovely voice. "Madame Grenban is indeed Magdalena's mother." I opened my mouth, but Jess beat me to it.

"Magdalena; you mean Magda, yes?" Getting an affirmative nod, Jess leaned back and stared up at the clouds, mumbling: "I never thought Maggy would be involved…" I turned to stare at him.

"You never thought Maggy was involved in what, Jess?" I asked quickly. Jess sighed, like he hadn't meant to say that.

"I never thought Maggy and her family were involved in the Volturi." Jess finally answered. Turning toward Sulpicia, I had already put the pieces together in my head. Still, I felt that hearing her say it could somehow make it more concrete.

"Magdalena and her mother are indeed vampires involved in the guard, Renesme. They've never truly attached themselves to us."

"But Maggy's eyes-" I blurted out. Without thinking, I clasped my hands over my mouth.

"-Are characteristically darker than the normal vampire's; quite unlike her mother actually." Athenadora finished for me.

Come to think of it… I hadn't actually met Maggy's mother before.

"There isn't a real reason for it, dear Lady." All of our heads turned; even Nahuel and Nico looked, still at their posts. Marcus was leaning back in his chair, looking completely relaxed. Athenadora was opening and closing her mouth; Marcus only smiled.

"Oh, Athena, don't be so shocked. I only talk when Caius leaves." He joked, a cheerfully-mischievous smile. "I hope you won't tell…" I had never heard Marcus speak, ever. Whenever we had visited, he looked lonely and solemn. The story was, after Didyme died, Marcus became withdrawn, an emotional recluse.

Sulpicia appeared nonplussed. Apparently, she was aware of the phenomenon that had us all gaping. Marcus was obviously no mute, but I couldn't help but think: _I never assumed he didn't have a voice._

I pondered along this vein until the door slamming snapped me back to the present. Clearing away the cobwebs, I relaxed into the bench, leaning against Jess. A girl, about 11 years old with corn-silk blonde hair, set down a try of golden-crystal goblets.

Aro sat down, jovial again. "Lunch is served, but I do apologize to our present vegetarians," He grinned, a sort of sick happiness flashed through his crimson eyes. "I feel this will not be sufficient to your… how shall we say…standards." At a gesture, the blonde maid nodded and handed Jess and I each a goblet.

Instantly a deep, dry thirst clawed at my throat like shards of shattered glass.

**Author's Note:**

**Hey-yah kiddies!**

**I'm sorry that Aro and the rest don't exactly match up to the books (again: I don't care that much about accuracy). I think of Aro as a "Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter" type of personality; Caius would get along famously with Lucius Malfoy; Marcus would probably seem at home in a library or an archive. Just a little explanation for those of you wondering…**

**I create soundtracks for my books of songs that inspire me or I feel go well with a certain scene. These will be posted on my blog (.com), but I want you all to have a say. SO, here is a little contest: Compile a soundtrack for Nessa as a character SO FAR. All details will go on my blog. The winning playlist will be featured on my blog and also get something super special!**

**Thanks for reading! The flash back is over; onto the Council meeting!**

**Carie Lea **


	11. Chapter 10: The Council

Chapter 10

_She used to be strong_

_She used to be brave_

_Until the most important lives _

_Were the ones she couldn't save_

"Dad, you don't have to hold my hand; I'm not seven!" I laughed, "And you can honestly say you're not like mum?" Dad looked down at me, rolling his eyes like Jess does when I'm "being silly".

Like father, like son, huh?

"Nessa, I know you're aware of the rules." He said sternly, humour glittering in his eyes. He seemed to want an answer.

"I know, I know…women escorted by a higher coven member, veil at all times in public, blah, blah…" I smirked, "So, why can't Jess escort me?" I knew that answer, so Dad didn't even bother. He could be kind of persnickety when it came to answers, but he had come to realize that half-assed responses were my way of rebelling on a level. He didn't argue, only worried for the day I would get my lip pierced.

The halls of Nightshade Villa were black and white marble tiles and columns. If there wasn't enough conflict in our own being, we seemed to want to show it off in furnishings.

Right and wrong;

Good and evil;

Yin and yang;

Damned or just the opposite?

However, the little touches and splotches of red, from pillows, tapestries, the blood of recent victims; added a whole new dimension to those conflicts:

Bloodthirsty hell-spawn or the dignified immortal?

Two Guard members, Santiago and Corin, opened the doors to the Council of Elites. The thoughts that the meetings could stretch on for hours, sometimes days or even weeks, behind lock and key pulsed in the back of my mind. When the doors swung open, the entire room fell silent, and stood. The looks we received were those of reverence and disgust.

I was the youngest woman allowed into the Council on a regular basis; it was a given.

Nightshade was one of those places that will scare you out of your wits, but teach you to hold your own and leave you feeling a new sense of confidence and accomplishment. In the top seats were Aro, Caius, and Marcus. Caius' stony face broke a little when he saw my father, but only in pure malice. We were Aro's favorites, and Caius didn't play that game.

The meeting commenced when we found our seats. The hall was deafly quiet, the clunk of the deadbolt sliding into place reverberated across the space. I couldn't stop the pang of reality from shooting up my spine, saying "Yes, we are locked in here for who knows how long". The room was dead silent for a long time, dust motes stagnant in the air. All heads shifted when Aro rose.

"Welcome brethren!" He grinned, happily surveying the room. "I would like to open this meeting by saying: withhold nothing. This is a meeting of great importance. From here on, we shall choose our stance and hold it fast. Speak now, brothers and sisters, because forever holding your peace is not an option." Aro's face had dimmed substantially, almost weary looking in the grey light. Caius took over.

"Here we shall decide the fate of the remnants of the Romanian coven, and all those who choose defiance over order." For a split second, I found his soulless eye glowering at me. "now, Aro has asked a few to say pieces demonstrating the views of the individual, the public and the deniers opinions. He with the unspeakable name has warped our society and granted our people ideals and unreasonable wants, for which they realize they cannot have. Proffer up any and all thoughts on how to quell these radicals." With a last chilling look in my direction, Caius proceeded to his "throne".

The ideas, feelings, and ideas were encouraged and forth did they come. Dad stood up and gave a semi-speech about the trials of parents with children in a "war-zone", mentioning the Weasleys, Grenbans, and Andersons. The tactics for dealing with the Romanians ranged from mild-mannered business negotiations to barbaric torture sessions. Only one person dared to even imply the method, known as "stretching"; most can only shudder its' thought.

Jess eventually stood up to say his piece about the Order of the Phoenix, a sickeningly dull topic on a good day. When Jess spoke to the masses, even those who gave us dirty looks and plotted things that never came about, all began listening. Even I became drawn in. He had a presence, my brother: calm, intelligent, with a slight air of regality that only comes with experience and confidence. People believed he was beyond his years, but I knew that it was only normal.

Inhaling deeply, I rose to speak instantly after Jess had sat down. My hands shook lightly as I rattled off what I'd memorized, not daring to look up; another privilege of mine. The statements rolled off my tongue in a manner far greater than how I'd imagined it in the mirror. Despite my dress doing a pretty crappy job of hiding my shaking legs, only dad and Jess noticed; dad choosing to invade my mind with measures of Mozart and Vivaldi. The statements flowed until the end. Seeing that Aro looked pleased, I turned to sit down, when somebody shouted at me.

"So, the princess has feelings for the humans, does she?" Losing my head, I spun back around. Liam was standing at his place, staring at me, wild-eyed, from across the room. My hands, holding tight to the wooden railing, were white; the wood splintering against my palm was the only evidence that I had lost my cool.

"Liam," I heard my father's voice, "My daughter is not a princess, and saying so could be considered offensive. You know better than to over-step your place." Dad placed a hand on my shoulder, lowering my temper a bit further.

"My place? My place?" Liam barked, "Your one to talk, aren't you Cullen? You all prance around here like you damn-well own the place, and no one seems to remember the fact that your daughter almost caused the extermination of seven covens!"

"Have you no shame, Liam?" My voice rang out through the space. Suddenly, the petty argument was very interesting. The Irishman looked smug.

"The lady doth speaks," he mused, "And your father thinks it his right to lecture me on hierarchical matters; even while his own daughter, the princess, out-steps herself."

"This is not the forum of which to bring that incident." I answered my tone a serpentine hiss. "Beside the matter, if my memory serves correctly, didn't those covens, including your own, come electively? I fail to understand how this is my fault, Liam?"

"We came by choice, yes; but the one mistake on the Volturi's part could have brought about many casualties in your name. Yet, you receive a near-royal status," Liam paused, turning towards Aro. "Perplexing, no?"

At the moment, I could feel all eyes on me, glaring. The Volturi still followed the style of hierarchy used in the Dark Ages; women were almost last. We didn't talk unless spoken directly to, we had fit a certain dressing style in public venues, and sometimes we were even barred from these venues. That's why my strangely elite status brought a lot of skirmishes. The fact that I was speaking in the Council Chambers, with my face and hair fully shown, these dusty old men viewed me as only one thing: the enemy. Only Caius seemed amused by it all.

Aro exhaled: "Why is her status perplexing, Liam? The Cullens are a well-off coven, whose leader was once, and still is considered, a member of the elite inner circle." Leaning on a hand, Aro looked down his nose at Liam, "Why have you chosen to question it?

Liam seemed to take on the air of a child caught hitting the dog. He sputtered in vain, tripping over his words while trying to fashion a reasonable response. Marcus gave him a look that said "anything? Anything at all?" when Liam blurted out:

"What has she done for the war effort?" Every member was taken back, whispers swirled like potion vapors in the dungeons. Liam looked haughty, like he had single-handedly solved the whole problem.

"That's right, my friends!" Liam's voice was breathy with a victorious air, "What has the little princess done to further any plan of action? What has she done?" He glared at me, pointing dead at my chest; the mad-man state of his eyes scared me.

"I should ask the same of you, Liam," I said in a hushed tone, though defiant all the same. Liam laughed sardonically.

"Me? I've done a helluva lot more than you, princess!" Then a thoughtful look flashed over his face. "My friends, I've just had a brilliant idea! Why don't we send the princess Renesme off to deal with the Romanians herself?"

My jaw dropped. "You're mad!" Jess and I shouted in unison. We shared a bitter glance that said "jinks" before turning back to Liam. Many others mumbled in agreement.

"Actually, Liam; that's not a bad idea." A velvet smooth voice carried, silencing the hall immediately. Caius was standing in front of the Volturi, a smug smile, watching me. Liam looked like he had been electrocuted; Aro's and dad's eyes had gone wide. Jess only mouthed "no" to himself. The room had gone stone cold.

"Caius, what are you – "Aro hesitated, but Caius eyes were nearly as crazy as Liam's, but more malicious. "Can't you see? Renesme is the perfect Queen in our grand chess game! She can deal with the Romanians and charm them back to our cause. They adore her, don't they, Edward?" My father appeared crazed.

"Aro, please; you can't possibly consider this?" Aro gave my father a pleading look, apologetic on some level.

"Edward, I am out of choices. We are out of options." The Volturi leader looked at me, "Renesme, I want you to go speak with the Romanians. If you could, ask the Order to send a letter ahead of you. Remember how the Romanians despise unannounced guests?" It was a sad attempt at humor, but I appreciated the gesture. Dad and Jess couldn't take it.

"You're sending a lamb to the wolves, Aro!" dad protested.

"This is a complete suicide mission, and you choose my sister?" Jess yelled. I felt tears well-up in my eyes.

"Dad, Jess," I said in a small voice, and they backed off, "Aro, I'll go, I promise." Liam and Caius looked jubilant, maybe at the thought of me dead. Aro was solemn, but sure. He was a leader, difficult decisions came with the badge.

"I believe that we have indeed finished." Aro whispered. "Council adjourned." Everyone filed out, some confused that it had only lasted a few hours. On Nightshade's marble front steps, Nico caught my eye. He gave ,e a look of disappointment and pity, like he had heard my fate.

Then it dawned on me that he had.

**Author's Note:**

**Hey y'all! I'm finally back into writing! Being on the school newspaper and having my own computer gives me a lot of time to type. When writing this, I couldn't help but remember all the conversations I had last year with my best guy-friend, Ian. He switched schools and has been a lot of help with Renesme's sarcasm and Jess' witty come-backs. Our conversations in math class became many of Jess and Renesme's original conversations (in the story's first edit) and he became Jess to me; the fictional older brother I wish I had.**

**SO, Ian: I really will miss your narcissism and "psychic-monkey powers" this year. We'll invite you to our next tea party, I promise, but you got to come through with invites to your school plays and such!**

**Anyway, sorry for getting all heart-felt on you all; I hope you are enjoying the story so far. The last chapter is in its' last edits, so expect a barrage of chapter postings in the next few weeks! Maybe even the first installment of the next book, hmm? Anyway, thank you all so much! You give me something to do after school and on the weekends, so I really appreciate all your love!**

**Carie Lea**


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: Hearts Call

_Hearts call, hearts fall_

_Swallowed in the rain_

_Who knows, life grows_

_Hollow and so vain_

After the ending of the council, Dad rushed Jess and I back to Hogwarts. We had only been back a week when Dumbledore announced that, for the safety of the students, the school was being shut down. I'm sure every single person over 15 years old remembered the previous threat of the school being closed; none of us thought that it would ever happen, but here we were.

It turns out that the Death Eaters had been targeting areas that were cultivating the rebellion, like Hogwarts and the Order.

After getting that cheery bit of news, Letta, Oceana, and I held hands and ran back to the Common Room. Harry spent the majority of the 24 hours between the announcement and our arrival at the train station yelling after me. I felt bad about the screaming at him in front of his fan-girls at the ball, but I'm sure I wasn't the only girl to leave him like that. Right?

On the train later, Letta, Jess and I sat alone in our compartment. Well, Letta and Jess were holding hands on the opposite side whilst I sulked in my personal bubble; secretly wishing I had Harry to lean on. Each of us had tears streaming down our cheeks; for my leaving, the dead, dying, and wounded; for the broken families, and the ones we may never see again. We awaited our fate at Grimmauld Place, Harry's god-father's house. I was only going to be there a week before I marched into my own death wish.

Letta sniffled into Jess's shoulder; he placed a protective arm around her, lightly kissing the top of her head. I tore my eyes away and stared out the window, tears blurring the scene.

"It's all changing, isn't it…" I choked out. Jess nodded and the silence continued even more.

My first impression of Grimmauld Place was unforgettable in its own right. Sirius Black was truly a kid at heart, and I instantly liked him as much as I like the Weasley twins, Fred and George. Sirius did his darndest to give us the best ten-cent tour we had ever gone on; a total win on his part. He could even make that portrait of his mother seem less of a demonically possessed frame, and more of a person.

Mrs. Weasley was waging war against the house while we were enjoying it. Being a mother and Mrs. Weasley, she was wrapped up in tiding up every bit of Number 12, even though it was a failing fight. The pixies were obviously the land-lords here, but Molly and her small army of wizard cleaning products weren't going down without a fight.

Despite our internal whining, Letta and I agreed that we would've much rather board here with Sirius, Remus and the twins, than anywhere else. I can't say that Ginny glowering at me from her chair was very inviting, but I had to deal with her being in the room across the hall. Toleration is the key. The only irksome part of the whole even was the room's décor: all plush, velveteen Victorian style. Sirius admitted that he was working on changing that.

I hated unpacking, especially when I would be reversing the process in a matter of days. I had gotten Remus to send out a letter to the Romanians; He had told me not to dwell on the rumors circulating; it was all there just to scare people.

I sighed, jamming my hands into the trunk, attempting to fish out all of my shirts. Someone knocked on the door, and I shouted the customary "it's open!" I felt my eyes narrow when I saw Harry leaning up against the door frame.

"What do you want, Potter?" I spat at a sheepish-looking Harry, instantly regretting it. I shouldn't have been taking my anger out on him, but I couldn't help it. He was just so hate-able when he wanted to be.

"I just wanted to…" He took a small breath, staring intently at the floor-boards. "I want to apologize for New Year's Eve."

"I'm sure you do…" I muttered under my breath, shoving the collected tops into a drawer.

"I'm serious, Nessa. It was stupid of me to read the letters, to go around with those girls, everything!" he pleaded. I regarded him with a look that I usually gave to Jess;

"I'm sure you are, but I'm going to be blunt," I sighed, "I don't forgive you and I have other shit to worry about than whether your apology was acceptable or not." I returned to my trunk, but Harry continued to stand at the door frame. I picked up the pile I had made of my stocking collection, dropped them all in an open drawer, slamming it shut. Harry's eyes snapped up.

"What?" He asked, placing one hand in a pocket. I rolled my eyes.

"If you want to stay, actually come in the room, but if you didn't plan on it, would you please show yourself out?" I snapped. Harry chuckled and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Are you going to tell me what is so important that you've gotten your knickers in a twist, or am I just going to have to sit here?" He asked, making me smirk a bit.

"Damn straight." I replied, folding my skirts into a pile. Setting them off to the side, I sat down next to Harry and leaned into his shoulder. "I'm going to Russia in a few days; Volturi orders." Harry seemed shocked in his normal, brooding way, but looked at me.

"So, you have no choice?" He asked softly. I let out a brief laugh; it sounded bitter and forced.

"And what would your whiny-ass opinion be, Potter?" I asked. He looked at me sternly. Apparently, the joke had just died.

"Russia is dangerous, Nessa." He stated, "And, honestly, we can't afford your casualty." My eyes narrowed again and I could feel my temper bubbling up.

"Why do you suddenly care so much about my Order work?" my voice was half-way to shouting, and so was the conversation.

"Why do you let the Volturi over-ride your every move?" Harry shouted, "I think you and your family need to be liberated." I stood up, laughing.

"Well, thank you for playing "super hero" for my family, Potter, but I don't need your mundane bullshit right now." I relayed. The two of us were seething, nose to nose and glaring at one another. Normally, this is the part in the movie where our characters would proceed to apologize profusely and snog, resulting in another happy ending.

Sorry, but we aren't a movie.

So, after some interesting choice words were used, I slammed the door on Potter. I think I heard Molly dropping something in the kitchen it was so loud. Oh, let the fun begin!


	13. Chapter 12

**Author Note: The fact that Nessa is going to Russia has nothing to do with Russia itself. I literally had one of my friends put northern countries on pieces of paper in a hat. We pulled out 3 and had our homeroom vote.**

**Disclaimer: Haven't done this in a while…I do not own Harry Potter or Twilight and it doesn't matter how many times I write to Santa asking for the papers.**

Chapter 12:

The Order wasn't very happy with me traveling to Russia on my own, but they couldn't interfere and they all knew it. The Volturi had full control, period. Harry refused to speak with me up, even on the day I left. I didn't think traveling by train was the safest thing either, but it was easier to monitor than flight schedules. Go figure. Dad was riding with me to Berlin, but this was after Fleur made sure we made our connection from Paris.

On my last day on the train, I donned an outfit that the Volturi had sent with my dad for the trip. He had given me that and another box before we arrived in Germany with the directions not to open the second until my map couldn't help me anymore.

The Volturi had given me a green turtleneck sweater, a brown knit circular scarf, a brown traveler's cloak with a fur-lined hood, along with an ankle-length wool skirt, thick white stockings, leather lace-up boots, and a knife belt with a new dagger.

When I got off the train in Moska, I slipped on my leather messenger and grey gloves. I got a strange look from a security guard about the knives, but it wasn't anything a distraction charm couldn't handle. Taking my map out of my pouch, I examined the directions Aro had inscribed on the side. Apparently, the only way to get to wherever the Romanians were was to hike for about 30 miles through forest and snow, into the middle of absolute nowhere. Brilliant, Aro.

As if the icy wind and below freezing temperatures weren't fun enough, add in trudging through 3 and a half feet of snow in the middle of the Russian country side and I was having one heck of a party. If you haven't caught on, I hate three things: being lost, being cold, and snow-storms. Today was not my day.

The sun was fading fast and the prospect of becoming bear-chow wasn't super appealing. You know how people say that miracle happen when you least expect them to? Well, it's true. I had just found the perfect tree to sleep in, when I heard something walking towards me. I spun around, unsheathing the sliver blade. I could barely see a thing except a single orange flicker in the dark. Going against my better judgment, I walked towards it. Yes, it's the "walk towards the light" cliché.

"Hello? Is anybody out there?" someone called. Quickly, I pulled out my wand and cast a charm allowing me to speak in English, but be heard in Russian; then prayed to God that Mafalda Hopkirk never found out. Calling back a simple, "over here", I saw a figure move into a little clearing. It was a man, maybe 20 years old, holding a lantern; amber flame burning in the night. He introduced himself as Nikolaus, saying that his house was only a little bit away. I lied and said my name was Tatiana and that I was traveling to another town. He offered me to spend the night.

He showed me to the loft and served dinner, which was stew. Everything tastes delicious while traveling, so I loved every bit. The next morning at 4, I decided to get an early start, sneaking out into the small pasture, leaving my host a note in the kitchen.

_Dear Nikolaus,_

_Thank you for your generosity. It was greatly appreciated. However, I must apologize for my dishonesty; my name is not Tatiana and I am traveling far more north than any town, a journey hardly done on foot. I have borrowed your black mare, Gisella is her name, I believe. She will be returned safely. As thanks, I left an amulet; wear it always and God speed you._

_Lady Renesme Claire_

Even though it was nearing seven in the morning, it was still black as night. I urged Gisella forward, but everything was slow-going in that weather. We were starting up a slope when the distant howls of wolves echoed off the tree tops. Gisella now had more incentive to get us out of the slope's forest, but she started slipping. The wolves were near us now; I could hear their fur rustling against the pine needles.

Gisella and I had almost made it out of the tree cover when I was thrown off, landing swiftly on me feet, whipping out my knife in the process. I was staring at a grey she-wolf, about the size of a Siberian tiger. She had large, lamp-like eyes that glowed in the early morning grey. Gisella was rearing up, forcing the wolves back. I waited until the one in front charged.

One swift movement; the silver bit into the wolf's neck, letting the blade taste blood for the first time.

I felt the feeling of glass shards tearing my throat apart. Unable to control myself, I licked the blade clean. I suddenly felt the craving mount, control now a mere memory. Stowing the dagger, I knelt by the dead wolf, taking more. The pack members suddenly backed down, still baring their teeth, but were submissive. The obedience was not for me though. Someone tossed me from the body, and I fell back into the snow a few feet away. I suddenly felt like the lowest thing in the world.

"What are you doing?" a woman stood before me, her face concealed in a fur-lined hood. She was clutching a dark blue staff; her snow-white cloak billowing in the wind, and her overcast coloured gown glinted despite the pre-dawn light. She looked like the Snow Queen, ripped from the pages of Hans Christian Anderson.

"I apologize, miss." I tried that angle. "I don't know what came over me, but I normally don't drink at all." I tentatively stood up, but my only way out, Gisella, was held at the reins by the Snow Queen's white fingers.

"I'm sorry, dear," She said, her voice light and regal, "But I cannot allow you to leave." The Queen, leading Gisella, stepped over the wolf's still form. I sank onto my knees, back in the snow-drift, defeated.

"But, I need to…" My voice drifted off. I was, to be honest, scared. The Snow Queen reminded me of Caius; loathing to those who disagree and argue with them, but perfectly pleasant to those they liked. The Queen bent down and held out a silver-white hand, I grasped it and she pulled me off the snow. I couldn't see her eyes because her silken black hair covered them, but a soft smile played on her lips.

"You didn't think I would let you go, now did you?" I was bewildered. She gripped my hand tightly. "I know where you are going, young one. I reside there, along with whom you are searching." She paused and gestured to my bag.

"Now show me," her voice was hushed, trance-like, "Where does your map end?" She tightened her grip and the world went black.

**Author's Note:**

**Another chapter done; because I have a lot of free time lately! Not that that's a bad thing, at all. I am still constructing the finer points of the "soundtrack"; there will be a link somewhere to a groove-shark account thingy where you can pick a playlist. So, anyway, the comments are still open for song suggestions.**

**Please comment/rate/review! **

**Thanks!**

**Carie Lea**


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